


Balance

by heathered



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Ficlet, Heterosexual Sex, Post-War, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-17
Updated: 2008-10-17
Packaged: 2018-10-26 11:28:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10785861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heathered/pseuds/heathered
Summary: Hermione decides that she and Harry ought to try something new.





	Balance

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

This had been a bad idea

**a/n** **:** _This was written for the erotic_elves Random Kink challenge on livejournal. Thanks to florahart and sugarquill39 for the beta!_

** Balance **

 

This had been a bad idea.  
  
Sitting crosslegged on the floor at the foot of the bed, Hermione stared at Harry, feeling increasingly anxious. It wasn't working. She'd researched it so carefully, bought all these new things, and arranged everything perfectly to be ready when Harry got home. But it wasn't anything like the way the books had described it. In fact, the longer she sat here, and the more nervous she got, it only got worse. Instead of romantic, the candlelight was too dim to see the expression on Harry's face properly. Rather than relaxing, the music sounded otherworldly and not like them at all. The scented oils and the flowers were vaguely irritating, not soothing. It was too hot in here, and while it put a rather appealing sheen of sweat on Harry's bare chest and shoulders, he didn't look particularly happy about it.  
  
What had she been thinking? Honestly -- tantric sex?  
  
Really, she should have known something so woolly-sounding would never work, but the books had made it sound so appealing. After all, what did she want if it wasn't to feel closer to him? Connect with him again? It had been weeks since they'd had any sort of sex, and if memory served, it hadn't been the most spiritual of experiences. Rushed, distracted, and more than a bit tired were the words that came to mind, which seemed to be the case more often than not lately.  
  
If tapping into some sort of -- what had the books said? -- 'spiritual balance' between their bodies would help, then she'd been willing to try. She just hoped that they hadn't wasted their first free evening since their son had been born on some useless exercise.  
  
Of course, eye contact was a big part of things, according to every resource she'd read.  
  
"Harry."  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"I think it's -- you're supposed to be looking at me."  
  
"I am."  
  
"My _eyes_ , Harry."  
  
"Oh -- er. Right."  
  
Hermione supposed the fact that Harry seemed to be focused on areas south of her face was a good sign, and the tingly feeling it put in her belly was certainly not unwelcome, but there was supposed to be a sequence to this. When he met her eyes there was an impish look in them that made her flush and hold back her smile. "Now, um. Right. I think at this point we're supposed to breathe together."  
  
"I think we've got that covered, haven't we? I'm breathing, you're breathing."  
  
"No, Harry; together. Synchronized. It's supposed to quiet our minds and make us more focused on each other."  
  
"If you say so. D'you want to count to three and then start?"  
  
"Yes, that might work. Through your nose, and then out through your mouth. If we do it at the same time, while looking at each other, it's supposed to be quite relaxing." Hermione was pleased that Harry was at least starting to get into it. "Alright? One. Two. Three."  
  
"Wait, I thought we were starting on three; not after three."  
  
"Harry, how can I start breathing _on_ three when I'm in the process of _saying_ three?"  
  
"Oh."  
  
Hermione frowned. "Just ... what if you start breathing, and then I try and fall into pace with you?"  
  
"Yeah; alright." Harry nodded, and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.  
  
"Eye contact, Harry," she reminded him, and his eyes flicked open again, settled on her as he sighed a bit. The sound had anxiety prickling at her skin again, but she was determined to see this through. "Good. Now, breathe slowly and I'll catch up."  
  
Without saying anything, Harry took deep breaths, and she watched his chest expand, his shoulders rise slightly, before he released the breath through his nose just as slowly. Realizing suddenly that she was breaking one of her rules, she lifted her gaze to his, catching the light of amusement in his eyes. She tutted and focused on keeping pace with his breathing until they settled into a rhythm, the seconds drawing out into minutes.  
  
"So ... can we do it now?"  
  
Hermione gave a start as her concentration broke. "Harry," she puffed out a breath, "it was working so well."  
  
"Right; but eventually ... I mean, aren't we going to --"  
  
"Yes, of course! I just ... the books say that we can't have a proper tantric experience unless your chakras are balanced."  
  
"There's nothing wrong with my chakras!" Harry said hotly.  
  
"No; I just mean our energy centers -- oh, bugger it." Frustrated, Hermione leant back on one hand, pushing a few curls away from her damp forehead. "This isn't working."  
  
Harry brought one knee up, resting his elbow on it as he looked at her. "Maybe you should just relax, Hermione."  
  
She shook her head. "I can't. I just wanted this to be perfect, and I've been reading about it. It's supposed to be relaxing, and we're supposed to feel closer. Take our time. It's supposed to be what we need, Harry, and if we can't get it right..."  
  
He reached out, touching a finger to her ankle, tracing her bare foot. "Who says it's what we need? All this stuff?" he looked around at all the votives and the dishes with their oils in them, the flowers. "We've never needed it before."  
  
"We've never gone this long without sex, either," she said matter-of-factly, "and we haven't done it properly since before Evan was born." She sighed. "I suppose I just thought that if we tried something new, that we'd get some of that energy back. You know?"  
  
Harry frowned. "I didn't even realise it had been that long," he admitted. "But this isn't us, Hermione."  
  
She had to smile wryly at that. "I guess not."  
  
"I vote we do it our way." He walked his fingers up her calf, slipping his hand beneath the leg of her soft cotton trousers.  
  
"That tickles."  
  
"Yeah?" Harry smiled slightly. "Not exactly the reaction I was going for." He scooted forward, legs still folded in front of him, and massaged her calf. "First order of business should have been to do something about how tense you are."  
  
Hermione sighed as he unfolded her leg, pulling her foot into his lap as he worked his hands higher, and untucked his own legs to rest them on either side of her. "Well I thought, you know, with the sex and everything, that I could hit two birds with one stone."  
  
He chuckled and slipped his hand back out from inside her trouser leg as he skimmed his hands up the sides of her thighs, over her hips. "You've always been more efficient than I am."  
  
"Multitasking is an important time management skill."  
  
"Mmmhmm." Hands tightening on her hips, he slid her along the hardwood floor, closer to him so that she had to drape her legs over his. "You know what it does to me when you talk like that."  
  
"I haven't the slightest idea what you mean, Potter."  
  
"Yeah; I'm sure you don't." Harry continued to trail his hands up her sides, pausing at the bottom of her camisole teasingly before he made his way toward her breasts.  
  
Releasing the breath she'd been holding, Hermione whispered, "Take it off me, Harry."  
  
"Can't," he told her, though his breath came more quickly as he molded her breasts in his hands, "got to be patient. Have to make sure your chakras are balanced."  
  
"Prat." She reached for him, fingers tickling at his sides, and gasped when his thumbs brushed her nipples. Her hands slid along his dampened skin as she explored his chest, working her way up, over his collarbones, his throat, and taking his face into her hands. "Harry."  
  
He lifted his gaze to hers, slightly unfocused, before his lips descended on hers in a hot and heady kiss. Hermione moaned into it, moving her hands backward into his hair and tugging him down to her while he dragged the strap of her camisole down. After a few moments he broke the kiss, and Hermione couldn't tell if he'd pulled her into his lap or or if she'd moved there herself, but before she knew it she was astride his legs, tilting her head to give him easier access to her neck and rolling her hips against his erection. Harry groaned and fisted his hands in her shirt, lifting it over her head and casting it aside.  
  
When his glasses dug into her neck, she plucked them off, and dimly, she could hear the clatter of them as they skittered across the floor and landed somewhere by the bathroom door. "Sorry," she breathed into his ear, and he lifted his head, looking blearily at her. "Fuck it," he muttered, his lips curving and making her kiss him again, catching his bottom lip lightly between her teeth.  
  
Eager, she dropped one hand from his hair, scraping her fingers over his flat nipples and making him shudder before she reached the waistband of his trousers. Pulling back from the kiss, Harry stilled her hands, breathing quickly. "Not yet."  
  
Her frustration was a low growl in her throat as Harry slicked his hands up her torso again, watching, just watching as she took shallow breaths and ground against him, waiting for him to do _something_ , and suddenly, he bent and closed his mouth over her nipple. She gasped, her head falling back, and reached back with one hand to steady herself as she felt her spine begin to melt.  
  
Relentless, Harry snaked his hand into her trousers, just as Hermione pulled his head back up to hers, catching his lips in a frantic kiss while she squirmed against him. Then two of his fingers were inside of her, and all she could do was grip his shoulders, shaking against him as she buried her face in his neck and moaned, bearing down on his hand. " _Harry_ ," his name tumbled from her lips as he pressed his thumb against her clit and before she knew it she was coming, tightening around his fingers and digging her nails into his shoulder. "Fuck."  
  
"My thoughts exactly." Harry wrapped his arm around her waist, twisting and shifting until she was on her back, his body pressed along hers, her breasts mashed against his chest. Rearing up again, he shimmied her trousers down her legs, tossing them somewhere behind him, then fumbled his own trousers off just as quickly. Back on top of her now, she stared at him, his eyes darkened with lust. He was inside her in an instant, still staring into her eyes, and they both groaned as he filled her.  
  
For some reason he stopped for a moment, and Hermione could feel him shaking with the effort to pace himself. "Please," she whispered, arching her hips, her grip on his arms tightening. She felt wound too tight to breathe, even after her first orgasm. "Please move."  
  
Harry withdrew nearly completely and slammed back into her, making her gasp and arch her back as they set a frantic pace, and for the first time in a long time it wasn't because they were in a rush; it was because they were both aware that neither of them could last long.  
  
Hermione scratched his back, and with a groan, Harry shuddered and drove himself into her, coming with a grunt. Lost in the sensation of it, Hermione followed closely behind, gasping as she heard him moan her name into her ear.  
  
He rolled off her, and for a while they just lay there, neither of them particularly compelled to move or say anything. Hermione felt better physically than she had in months. Eventually, Harry rolled his head toward her, which gave her the impetus to exert enough muscles to do the same. "I dunno about you," he said lazily, his slow smile making her belly tighten again, "but I'm feeling pretty balanced."  
  
She lifted her hand, swatting him feebly. "You're gloating."  
  
"'m not," he said, but his smile deepened as he looked at her. "Maybe I am, a bit. But we got the job done, right?"  
  
Hermione felt her lips tug up at the corners. She had to agree.


End file.
